


Crystalline Measure

by ethereousdelirious



Category: Johannes Cabal - Jonathan L. Howard
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, My First Work in This Fandom, No Plot/Plotless, Not Beta Read, Not Incest, Oneshot, Protective Older Brothers, Sickfic, Stomach Ache, Vomiting, begone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethereousdelirious/pseuds/ethereousdelirious
Summary: Johannes finds that collecting mortal souls is that much harder when ill. Horst strives for normalcy. Neither one gets what they want.(Warning for for emetophobes-- skip this fic).





	Crystalline Measure

**Author's Note:**

> **In case you missed the warning in the description, do NOT read this fic if vomiting makes you extremely uncomfortable.**
> 
> Some brotherly fluff, because I've been reading WAY too many Thor & Loki hurt/comfort fics lately, and I started to see some parallels. I didn't check this to canon too closely, so there might be some errors here and there (I completely fudged the sleeping arrangements, for one thing), but if anything is off, it should just be nitpicky details.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Johannes pressed one hand to his aching stomach and wished that either the pain would go away or that he would vomit soon and get it over with. His complexion, which was ghostly pale even when he was healthy, had turned a nasty grayish color, yet he allowed no emotion to slip onto his face as he forced himself to keep talking to the whirling, multicolored throng of bodies that made up his first night’s batch of visitors. 

“Come one, come all…” He wiped the sweat from his brow and swallowed hard. As the night dragged on, he was beginning to repeat stock phrases, not that he put much mental effort into them in the first place. “Tell your friends that you--” he swallowed again, “that…” He failed to come up with something suitably snarky to say to announce his temporary departure and practically threw himself around the back of the tent, a movement that had his already upset stomach wheeling.

He managed a few hitching breaths before he doubled over and vomited unspectacularly in the grass behind the freakshow tent. He made a foolish attempt at standing back up right away only to double over once more as a bolt of pain shot across his abdomen.

Johannes found himself choking out “Horst” in between gasps for breath, as if he could summon his brother simply by saying his name. 

No such luck, of course. Johannes straightened up --slowly this time-- and went back to his post, a little irritated with himself for crying out for his brother so childishly. Horst couldn't fix anything.

“Enter the House of Medical Monstrosity if you dare,” he challenged the hesitant crowd somewhat hoarsely. He could swear his stomach was trying to escape his body through any means necessary. If it couldn’t get out by mouth then it would simply claw its way right out the front of him or tear itself apart trying.

Johannes’ dark glasses kept slipping down the bridge of his nose. He could feel the cold sweat on his face and he shivered in the evening breeze. It was going to be a long night.

 

Horst didn’t come back to check on him until the very last guest had gone. The very moment he saw his brother, Johannes’ locked knees decided they’d had enough and dropped him to the ground. Horst was by his side in a flash, which gave him plenty of time to witness his brother’s gagging firsthand and up close, although nothing came up but bile and a bit of saliva.

Johannes groaned. All the muscles in his stomach continued to contract even though there was nothing left to come up and it  _ hurt. _

“Johannes.” Horst didn't waste his breath asking if his brother was alright, merely knelt and placed a cool hand on his brother’s too-warm back. Johannes shuddered. “What happened?”

“I’m  _ sick _ , obviously.”

“Can you stand?”

“Just a minute.” Johannes tried and failed to catch his breath. Taking a moment to brace himself, he made a shaky attempt to get to his feet. He only made it halfway up before a full-body shudder forced him back down. Turning paler still, Johannes made a pathetic sort of mewling sound, his eyes screwed up tight behind his glasses.

“Up you go, then.” Horst scooped his younger brother into his arms, and the speed of the ascent had Johannes’ stomach roiling again. Horst only made a it few feet before Johannes thrashed out his arms and fell to the ground, dry heaving miserably with tears streaming from his eyes.

“Johannes.” Horst was on the verge of being touched by this display of humanity. “It’s all right. You’re going to be fine.”

Johannes sat up, removed his glasses, wiped his eyes, and gave Horst a look that would have sent a whole army running for cover. “My eyes are watering,” he hissed. “I’m not  _ crying _ .” Then he winced and wrapped his arms around himself. “You’re sure I’m going to be fine?” he asked in a voice so small Horst barely heard him.

“I promise.” Horst picked up Johannes (slowly this time) and carried him to his bed.

 

He set Johannes down gently and moved to begin taking off his shoes, but Johannes batted his hands away. “Just because I can’t  _ walk _ ,” he started to say, and then shut up, swallowing thickly. He managed to get his shoes off, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t undo the knot in his cravat.

“Yes, yes, otherwise you’re the picture of health.” Horst watched him struggle for a moment before swooping in to help.

Johannes gave him a dark look, but said nothing.

“Lie back,” Horst instructed. “Try to sleep.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Johannes said childishly, sticking out his tongue for good measure.

Horst only shook his head, smiling despite himself.

 

“Horst?”

Safe inside the trunk, Horst stirred.

“Horst!”

Horst opened his eyes. Johannes was calling out for him.

Slowly, he lifted the lid off the trunk and stood up. Sunlight was pouring in from behind the curtains, enough to illuminate the room but not so much that Horst felt unsafe getting up. He went to his brother’s side.

Johannes was deep in the grips of a fever dream. His eyes were shut tight. A bright red flush traced across his face, high up on his cheeks and forehead. “Horst,” he said again, plaintive and weak; more vulnerable than Horst had seen him since they were children.

“Shhhh, ‘Hannes. I’m right here.” Horst pressed a cold hand to his brother’s face and Johannes relaxed a little.

He opened his eyes, and they were steely and fever-bright. “You won’t disappear? You won’t-- The lock…” His eyes fluttered shut. “The lock,” he murmured again. “I can't get--”

“I’ll stay right here,” Horst promised.  


"I lost you before-- my fault..."

"I'm not going anywhere."  


Johannes made a small noise in the back of his throat and reached for Horst's hands, lacing their fingers together. "You're all I have left."

"I know, _Kleiner_. I won't go anywhere."

Horst stayed put until Johannes' hands went slack and his breathing slowed, the anguish melting from his face as sleep overtook him.

 

There was a noise, and Horst awoke with a start. He was on the floor in the shadow of Johannes’ bed and above him were a pair of feet.

Johannes’ feet, clad in his usual sensible black shoes. It was dark outside.

“‘Hannes?” Horst sat up.

Johannes gave him a venomous look. “Don’t call me that.”

Horst ignored him. “Going somewhere,  _ Kleiner _ ?”

“Don’t call me that either.” Johannes tied his cravat in a mail coach knot with some difficulty, as his hands were still shaking. Then he stood up.

“What are you doing?” Horst asked, standing up also, strategically placing himself between his brother and the door.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I have 100 blank contracts here in desperate need of signatures.”

“But you’re sick!”

Johannes, pale and unsteady on his feet, glowered at Horst. “I’m going to be in a much worse position if I don’t get these contracts signed.” He folded one up neatly, tucked it in his jacket pocket, and marched out the door.

Horst shook his head. He waited a moment, then followed Johannes outside.

He was going to have to keep a close eye on his brother these next few nights.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
